Then the young king spoke, a novice in battle:

'This light is not the light of dawn; no fiery dragon flies overhead;

The gables of this hall are not lit up with licking flames;

But men draw near with shining weapons. The birds of battle screech,

The grey wolf howls, the spear rattles,

Shield answers shaft. The pale moon wanders

On her way below the clouds, gleaming; evil deeds will now be done

Provoking pitched battle.

Wake up now, my warriors!

Grasp your shields, steel yourselves,

Step forward and be brave!'

 

 

So many a thane, ornamented in gold, buckled his sword-belt.

Then the stout warriors, Sigeferth and Eaha

Strode to one door and unsheathed their swords;

Ordlaf and Guthlaf went to guard the other,

And Hengest himself followed in their footsteps.

When he saw this, Guthere said to Garulf

That he would be unwise to go to the hall doors

In the first fury of the onslaught, risking his precious life,

For Sigeferth the strong was set upon his death.

But Garult, a hero of great heart,

Shouted out, 'Who holds the door?'

'I am Sigeferth, a warrior of the Secgan

And a well-known campaigner; I've lived through many conflicts,

Many stern trials. Here, in strife with me,

You'll discover your fate, victory or defeat.'

Then the din of battle broke out in the hall;

The hollow shield, defender of the body, was doomed to disintegrate

In the hero's hand; the hall floor boomed.

 

Then Garulf, the son of Guthlaf, gave his life

In the fight, first of all the warriors

Living in that land, and many heroes lay prostrate beside him.

A crowd of pale faces fell to the earth. The raven wheeled,

Dusky, dark brown. The gleaming swords so shone

It seemed as if all Finnesburh were in flames.

I have never heard, before or since, of sixty triumphant warriors

Who bore themselves more bravely in the thick of battle.

And never did retainers repay their prince more handsomely

For his gift of glowing mead than did those men repay Hnef.

They fought five days and not one of the followers

Fell, but they held the doors firmly.

Then Guthere retired, worn out and wounded;

He said that his armour was almost useless,

His corselet broken, his helmet burst open.

The guardian of those people asked him at once

How well the warriors had survived their wounds

Or which of the young men. ...

 

 

The Finnesburh ftag'nent recounts a portion of the tale of Finn and Hildeburh sung by the minstrel

in the Old English epic Beowulf

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